In Henning Mankell’s novels about Swedish policeman Kurt Wallander, Wallander’s father is a painter who paints the same landscape every day.

They think the father is suffering from dementia, but I wonder if there isn’t some clarity there, too.

I seem to be stuck on Cabezon myself.

Sharing photographs of the trusty old volcanic plug sitting under a changing western sky might be a substitute for the daily journalism I used to do for a living.

One way or another, it keeps me wondering. And, as far as sharing  photographs goes, at least I steer clear of feral horses and snakes.



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